


Wings

by WingingIt2410



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Human Experimentation, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Magical Artifacts, Magical Creatures, Protective Bruce Wayne, Romani Dick Grayson, Wingfic, Young Bruce Wayne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-24 02:57:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18562513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingingIt2410/pseuds/WingingIt2410
Summary: Chains chinked from somewhere in it, before a lithe, dark haired boy with beautiful blue eyes peered over the bars with a look so confused it made Bruce’s animal side shudder in sympathy. A blinding, sudden empathy washed over him as they locked eyes.Or/ Bruce thought he was alone, but turns out there are others who share his curse.





	1. Chapter 1

The auction was kept incredibly quiet, and for a reason. The sheer amount of strings Bruce had to pull in order to sneak a ratty guy like Matches into a place like this, with government officials, celebrities and a whole litany of others who would rather keep this event  _hush hush_  was a feat he was extremely proud of. That didn’t change the fact that he was still very much in a tank of sharks, and out of his depth. No one there trusted him, or his intentions. He hadn’t gone there expecting to, but he knew that if he didn’t want to be kidnapped and tortured until these people got his real intentions out of him in some sort of dungeon, he needed to bid. Make a purchase, even, to convince them he wasn’t a spy.

His sources had been feeding him info about an underground smuggling ring operating in the very heart of the Gotham socialite community for months, and recently his guys on the inside observed stock being moved on mass. The expensive, powerful stuff worth millions with the right crowd. Apparently rich idiots with nothing better to do were very interested in dangerous, ancient artefacts, and pursued them with a disregard for safety only obscene wealth could provide. Those pampered pricks in their glass houses living only a stroll away from extreme poverty wanted power their wealth  _couldn’t_ buy them. The magical kind. And they’d happily pay fortunes to get it.

They probably didn’t even know what half the stuff on offer actually did, or how dangerous it was. They probably just saw the sparkling amulets, the glowing rocks and gems, the pickled creature organs in jars, and thought to themselves  _“this’ll look good on the mantel piece!”_. The ignorance was making Bruce seethe. Or, rather, it was putting a sour look on Mr Malone’s face as he sat at the back of the viewing gallery, chewing on a match, white mask securely plastered over his face.

The auction was supposed to be starting soon, so Bruce took his seat early and began scoping out the clients and security. Unsurprisingly, the guards were all armed to the teeth and littered throughout the room in tactical positions. The staggered seats, which resembled a theatre, made it difficult to get a handle on the ones stationed further down, but he assumed that they were all armed equally. He hated guessing, but at least the guards closest all seemed identical, so it was a relatively safe bet. He reclined back easily into his chair, eyeing the cameras at every corner carefully. No blind spots he could exploit, it looked like. These people were good, he had to admit. They knew what they were doing.

“Ah! Sorry to disturb you, Mr...?” Bruce turned to regard the weathered old man standing in the aisle beside him wearing an identical mask, who held the pamphlet the staff had handed out with all the lots noted down in nervous hands, with an openly disinterested look.

“No names, jackass. What can I do for yer?” He plastered the accent on heavily, noting with satisfaction as the man scrunched his nose, no doubt used to more polite and respectful acknowledgements, and observed as he drew himself up tighter in disbelief.

“Terribly sorry, do you happen to know what time the auction starts? My wife and I were just-“

“How am I suppos’d to know? Ask one of those fella’s over there or s’mthin’.” The man looked affronted at being so rudely interrupted, and then huffed impatiently. He stalked off to talk to one of the guards, and thankfully didn’t make a scene like the woman in the lobby had.

_“Excuse me? Do you know who I am, pig? Apologise this instant or I’ll have you arrested, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t!”_

Bruce sighed tiredly at the memory. At least, even acting as a dumb as nails philanthropist, he didn’t abuse his power or lord it over others. The man glared at him when he walked past again, pausing to link arms with a masked woman half his age and whispered heatedly in her ear. He watched in amusement as her eyes widened in mock horror, and glanced quickly at Bruce before shaking her head and whispering something unflattering back. They tittered, and moved on, her hands tightly wrapped around her husband.

Time passed slowly, the minutes ticking by as more clients took their seats in the dark room. Once or twice he heard a faint curse as someone tripped or stumbled over the chairs, but otherwise the room was silent except only hushed discussions over the lots and rustling paper. Eventually, the staff started herding people towards their seats and the room flooded with masked faces. The auction was beginning soon.

An elderly couple sat reluctantly next to him as the room filled up steadily with interested buyers, but said nothing to him. As the last stragglers finally sat down, the lights on the stage were switched on. Many people flinched at the bright, industrial light, including the couple next to him, who started complaining in hushed voices. A man in a ridiculous suit and matching top hat and gloves took centre stage, his face also covered with a mask. The crowd went silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We hope your stay thus far has been enjoyable, but now we’re onto the main attraction! Please refer to your pamphlets for the lot number and description before bidding, and raise the paddle being handed to you now by our staff if you wish to bid! Raise it high, and happy bidding!”

Bruce looked to his side as a paddle was waved under his nose, which he took. The man walked to the edge of the stage and stood by a podium, then reached under it and spread papers over the top, scanning the mess of documents before shuffling them back into a pile and clearing his throat.

“First, we have lot number 1, an exquisite set of rune necklaces said to contain ancient spirits! Perfect for a collector, or as a beautiful gift to the missus! The set includes-“

Bruce tuned his voice out, choosing to skim through the lots instead. He already knew the necklaces had no energy left in them; he couldn’t sense any. A few people in the audience shifted to their partners and shook their heads, proving his point. It seemed as though some of the clients had brought along Psychics to prove the authenticity of the products, or had abilities of their own. With the sheer influence and money those people had, it was no wonder they wanted to invest wisely. The last lot seemed the most mysterious, and by far the most expensive. Bidding apparently started at 26 million, though for what wasn’t clear. The description was insultingly brief:

_“We proudly present our most esteemed product we have ever offered: an angel.”_

“Angel” could mean any manner of items, spanning from illusions, disembodied wings, and simply fakes. Considering how useless the first items were, he was almost convinced the organisers really were just con-artists scamming the high class. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

The second item, however, was real. An amulet of considerable power, which the man claimed had transformative abilities. An artefact like that could be used for disguises, which was a very dangerous thing in a city like Gotham. Not wanting any future headaches, Bruce made a mental note of the buyers head and clothing, for later deductions on their identity.

The rest of the lots alternated between real and fake, ending in a mixed bag that ultimately would definitely give him a headache. He ended up buying a deceptively harmless looking locket that he sensed dark power from to keep it away from the greedy hands of those with Psychic buddies, as they recognised its energy as well. Even if he was just keeping his cover, at least he was also preventing a dangerous magical item from hitting the streets.

He straightened as the man tipped his hat nervously and glanced quickly at his papers and the audience. It was the last bid. The room buzzed with electric energy as excitement started to build about this “angel”.

“Our last lot of today is something very special indeed. Unlike the items before it, this lot is  _alive_. A creature so rare, they were thought to have gone extinct!”

Bruce tensed, the runes on his back sparking. The like-minded clients in the crowd reacted similarly, whilst the others smiled politely with no idea of what they were about to see, or even the levity of what was being said. There was only one creature that could fit that description.

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen! We have for you here today...”

The stage behind him moved, splitting open to reveal a hold below. Bruce caught flashes of the previous items before something much larger was moved in the way. A massive gold cage. Chains chinked from somewhere in it, before a lithe, dark haired boy with beautiful blue eyes peered over the bars with a look so confused it made Bruce’s animal side shudder in sympathy. A blinding, sudden empathy washed over him as they locked eyes.

Then he saw the  _wings_. Great, coloured wings tucked tightly against his back in gorgeous yellow, green and red.

“A Mystic!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt a heavy weight settle over his chest as the boy yelped suddenly, the cage shifting back under the stage. They locked eyes one final time before the black tiles swallowed him up. He was crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments! I read them all, even if I don't reply. Having support and the knowledge that people like what I'm writing is half of the joy of writing in the first place!
> 
> I'm glad you all like this AU so much, it's so fun to write.
> 
> Also, I made Dick a sweetheart in this. What can I say? Baby Dick is so goddamn cute, I can't help myself!
> 
> See the end notes for some clarification on age, if that previous statement confuses you.

The boy couldn't have been older than 15, but it was difficult to tell at the back of the auditorium. He could see his eyes clearly, though, a radiant blue that cut through his runes and saw straight into his soul. Saw  _him_.

He could tell that he recognised a fellow Mystic from the way his expression morphed from horrified confusion to a desperate plea. He could see the sudden hope all over his face, the hope that Bruce would free him.

The rest of the audience was just sitting there and cooing at him like he was an animal, their paddles poised. When the bidding started, he raised his own. He needed to get him out of that damned cage.

When the boy saw him participating, he seemed hesitant. Bruce clenched his jaw, because there wasn't any way for him to reassure the poor kid that he wasn't a pervert who wanted to keep him as an ornament.The price rose ridiculously fast, with almost everyone in the room jumping in to bid. 50 million, 100 million, 200 million. Eventually it was just him and one other man near the front left, bidding rapidly. 

"300 million."

"500 million."

Finally, the man caved.

"Going once...going twice...going three times...SOLD! To the man at the back!"

The man strolled over to the cage and slapped a red "SOLD" sign over the bars, making stupid clicking noises at the captive inside when he flinched violently away from him. Bruce shivered in disgust when he saw the sly smile on his face at the reaction.

He felt a heavy weight settle over his chest as the boy yelped suddenly, the cage shifting back under the stage. They locked eyes one final time before the black tiles swallowed him up. He was crying.

"Thank you all for joining us tonight! That concludes the final bid, please make your way to the lobby for tea, or if you purchased an item, please follow me to the holding area. Have a great night!" 

The lights were turned back on, and reams of people began to exit the room. He began pushing his way through the flow of aristocracy to get to the stage, where other buyers were stood waiting. The man checked their paddles, and when they were all there, he directed them through the side wings.

Bruce and the others followed him down to the holding bay, where he pointed clients to their wares. After he'd told a tall woman in a flattering red dress where her necklace was the man turned to him next, and said "This way sir, at the edge of the room." Spotting the roof of the cage he nodded, and started to make his way toward it. On the way, he also snagged his locket and placed in in his pocket.

When he got nearer to the cage, he made sure he kept his steps measured and slow, as to not scare him, and approached from an open space so the kid could watch him come closer with an apprehensive look.

He took his mask off, keeping his expression open and kind.

"Hello, my name's Bruce, what's yours?" He asked softly.

The boy gulped and sat up straighter, the chain around his neck tinkling. "My name's Dick." His voice was quiet. He paused and then added "Why did you buy me?"

"Because you're the same as me, Dick. And I want to help you."

He cocked his head like a bird, which Bruce found ironic but decided not to mention. "Your aura feels similar to mine...but you don't have a Deal?"

"You can see my runes, yes? They hide my Deal in public."

Dick's eyes widened. "Then what Deal did you make?" He blushed. "If you don't mind..."

Bruce smiled. "Wings."

Dick made an excited noise, and started bouncing. "I've always wanted to see other wings, the others were all given-"

Bruce's eyes almost popped out of his head. "Wait, Dick, there are others?"

"At least, there used to be."

He frowned. "What happened, Dick?"

"They wanted to make Mystics... Most of them didn't make it, the others were taken away."

"They tried to make you Mystics against your will?" When Dick didn't respond, he let out a quick, angry breath. "How many?"

"I'm not sure. Ten, maybe?"

Bruce nodded and knelt down next to him, noting how he squirmed and yanked at the shackles on his wrists. "Don't worry, Dick, I'll get you out of here as soon as I can. I just need you to tell me what happened to the others."

He took a shaky breath. "They tried to fuse us with magic so they could sell us as Mystics, but they didn't know how to do it properly. They had this book that was supposed to have all the instructions in, but there were pages missing. The others...they were spliced with animal DNA to try and make it work...but all it did was make them sick.

A few managed to survive, but they had claws and scales, and were horribly deformed by the process. They couldn't sell them, so they killed them.

They said I was pretty so they left me for last, cause they wanted me to be perfect. They gave me wings..."

Bruce stared at him. "How did they get it to work?"

"They gave me the choice of DNA. So I asked for a robin. No one else had that choice."

"Why a robin?"

Dick's eyes started to tear. "My mom used to call me her robin."

Bruce's mind was reeling. Those sick fucks had tried to turn children into Mystics, and by the sound of it, Dick was the only survivor. The emotional connection was probably what had saved his life.

"I lost my parents too." He said, surprising himself.

"How did you-"

"I know that look, Dick. I was you, once."

The conversation was pulled into silence. Then loud voices began getting closer. "Listen, Dick, I'm going to get you out of here, ok? But they can't know who I am. I'm in disguise."

Dick's mouth was an "o". "Like a superhero?"

He smiled again. "Exactly. So I'm going to change behaviour for a little bit, just until I know we're safe and they're not watching us anymore."

"Where will we go?"

"You can stay with me, if that's what you want?"

He nodded eagerly. "You're cool."

"Thank you." Bruce didn't think he'd smiled so much in years.

He put a finger to his mouth to remind Dick to stay quiet, and slipped his mask back on just in time for the man to lean around the corner. "We require payment now, sir."

"Sure, sure. Whatever." He noticed with amusement how Dick's lip twitched.

The man handed him a card scanner, and as he was entering his pin, he pulled out a key and unlatched the cage door. He checked the payment had gone through, and then left with a final rage inducing comment of "Enjoy the little bird, sir."

He didn't bother with a reply.

"Come on, Dick." He whispered, talking him carefully by the chain around his neck and leading him quickly through the room. He was directed to a fire escape door that blissfully lead out into fresh air, and immediately dialed Alfred.

The clouds were a deep gray, and the biting Gotham wind was signalling a storm. Dick was shaking like a leaf, so Bruce shrugged off his jacket and wrapped him up in it. He gave him a small smile and cuddled into it gratefully.

Alfred pulled up minutes later, the Mercedes gleaming. He stepped out to hold the door open and gasped when he saw Dick, who gave him a meek wave. "That's the friend I mentioned. His name is Alfred."

"Hello, sir. And who would this be?"

"This is Dick."

"Hello!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you're probably wondering at this point why this is a Dick/Bruce story that isn't tagged as underage when Dick's 15, but I promise this isn't a creepy story.
> 
> Well, there are some creepy people but not Bruce!
> 
> This is a slow burn, folks! This fic is going to span over years, so when they eventually...you know, it'll be securely in the adult part and not the minor part.
> 
> Remember, Dick became Nightwing when he was 18/19, so it won't be too long until he starts to change.


End file.
